She then retires to Hecate’s shrine, that stood Far in the covert of a shady wood: She finds the fury of her flames assuaged, But, seeing Jason there, again they raged. Blushes and paleness did by turns invade Her tender cheeks, and secret grief betray’d. As fire, that sleeping under ashes lies, Fresh blown, and roused, does up in blazes rise, So flamed the virgin’s breast⁠— New kindled by her lover’s sparkling eyes. For chance, that day, had, with uncommon grace Adorn’d the lovely youth, and through his face Display’d an air so pleasing, as might charm A goddess, and a vestal’s bosom warm. Her rayish’d eyes survey him o’er and o’er, As some gay wonder never seen before; Transported to the skies she seems to be, And thinks she gazes on a deity. But, when he spoke, and press’d her trembling hand, And did, with tender words, her aid demand, With vows, and oaths, to make her soon his bride, She wept a flood of tears, and thus replied: “I see my error, yet to ruin move, Nor owe my fate to ignorance, but love: